For years, he was simply Q, and the music reflected that individuality. Now, the 27-year-old Broward County musician goes by his government name, and his new album, DO YOU SEE ME?, has arrived as a landmark to that change. The transition originated as practical thinking. A single letter, as it turns out, is nearly impossible to find online. His last name, MARSDEN, came back because it meant something to him. Before Q was ever writing songs, his dad was making dancehall record

Earlier this year, Baby Boy released a solo project entitled BUCK*. It’s a soulful exploration of his experiences and an ode to his roots. The title of the album and the themes explored within it are closely intertwined. “Once a year, a buck will shed its antlers. This is me doing that—getting everything off my chest,” he says. Baby Boy characterizes the creation of his songs as a sort of release: a way to meaningfully express and release his feelings, so he can eventually mo

Every artist is performing a version of themselves. In psychology, it’s called impression management. It’s sort of like a show: there’s who you are under the lights, and who you are once you walk off. In music that front stage used to be built for labels, radio, and press. Now it’s built for the feed, in front of an audience that hears the snippets, weighs in on the drafts, and feels like part of the process. The performance never really stops, because the crowd never really